The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5)

by Deborah D. Moore

  ***

  At noon, Christine walked Holly to the park to find Janis already there and deep in conversation with Seth.

  “Where’s Trevor?” Janis asked, looking behind Christine.

  “He has to work today,” she answered simply, and quickly changed the subject. “How did you fare during the storm, Seth?”

  “It was quite the blow, wasn’t it?” he chuckled. “We were fine, Christine. Janis was just telling me about how well prepared you and Trevor were for the storm. You had plenty of food, water, games, even a lantern when the lights went out.”

  “Some of that is because my dad likes to camp; it’s really his stuff, and everyone has games to play.” Christine thought on how to downplay what they had. “And I think Janis is exaggerating a bit. All we had was a pizza from the freezer, our last one by the way, and Trevor made pancakes from a box mix for breakfast this morning. That’s all. Have you seen anything on the news about the storm?” she said, switching subjects again.

  “Yes, I saw the reports this morning,” Seth replied. “It seems we were very lucky. The tornado went by about ten miles to the south of here and never touched down.”

  “I guess I should go home and watch some news myself. I’m really curious about what happened… and what is happening outside of Greenwood,” Christine said, finding this a good opportunity to leave early. “Besides, I need to get to work myself. See you all later!”

  ***

  Christine let herself in the back door of the Main Street store. Holly nudged past her to greet Trevor and find the blanket he had set behind the counter just for her. The past few months had been traumatic for the dog losing not one but two masters, although Holly adjusted well, feeling the love from these new humans.

  “How was the park?” Trevor asked tentatively.

  “As we feared, when I got there, Janis was busy regaling Seth with our vast amounts of supplies, which I tried to downplay as much as I could,” Christine told him. “What are we going to do about her, Trevor?”

  “I was thinking about that while doing the inventory. I think we should contact Doc Adams and see if he can find out anything about her parents. He’s about the only one that has any clout at the hospital. I’m not sure what good it will do her either way, but it’s worth a try.”

  “It may give her enough focus and get her attention away from us,” Christine said. “And if her parents succumbed to the flu, she at least would have some money to support herself. Though thinking about it, I find it rather strange that at her age, she doesn’t have a job of her own.”

  “Speaking of money, while I was paying some bills online earlier, I noticed that my insurance company had deposited the claim money into the store accounts.”

  “That’s great, Trevor. It should make it easier for you keep the store open.”

  “Yes, with the building claim, I can finally get that site razed and cleaned up. There’s also the inventory loss, my personal possessions loss, and the vehicle, so we’re sitting pretty good right now.” He smiled, knowing he wanted to set aside some of those funds for a honeymoon.

  “Have you come up with an order for the store?” she asked, wanting to get away from the subject of money, something she had always felt uncomfortable discussing.

  “I have. Anything you would add to this?” he asked, handing her the clipboard with the order form attached.

  Christine carefully read his notations, flipping through the pages. “What about some comfort foods? Like chips and frozen pizzas?” she suggested. “And I don’t see alcohol on this list.”

  “I called about beer this morning. The state was quick to take control of all alcohol. It’s not available to us little guys anymore.”

  “Then I guess we should really ration what we have left and save it for special reasons.”

  “Yeah, that would make sense,” Trevor said. “I added chips to the list, but the frozen items come from a different supplier and I haven’t been able to reach them yet. At least there isn’t that expense of running the freezers yet. I think my electric bills for the stores could cover a dozen families!”

  ***

  “Good to see you open, Trevor,” Chief Mallory said, pushing open the front door.

  “It was time, Marty,” Trevor replied. “That storm kept us in for two days. Was there any damage in town?”

  “Just the power outage. Because of the hospital we came back up quickly. Small towns without medical facilities are the last served, unfortunately.”

  Christine’s thoughts went to her father somewhere in the middle of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and she wondered how he was doing and if he was affected by any power outages.

  “That reminds me, I need a favor. We have a neighbor whose parents went to the hospital with the flu a couple of weeks ago,” Trevor told him. “She hasn’t heard from them and the hospital guards won’t her in, so she has no way of finding out their condition. Is there any way to get that information to her?”

  “Between me and Doc I’m sure we can find out something. I must warn you though, if it’s been several weeks, it probably isn’t good news,” Marty said, jotting down Janis’ name and address.

  “That’s okay too, at least she can move on if they’ve died,” Christine added.

  ***

  “The damage potential was there with the EF-2 status of the tornado,” the newscaster said.

  “Yes, once the winds hit 113 mph, it was officially an EF-2. The final clocking of the wind speed set it at 120 mph,” Matt Zika said.

  “What made it veer off to the south, Matt?” the anchor asked the meteorologist.

  “It’s almost impossible to say, Cynthia, but based on an educated guess, I would have to say it followed I-70 through Terre Haute and when it hit the higher elevation at Cataract Falls, that caused it to lift, and veer off to the south… lucky for us.”

  “Absolutely, Matt, the new direction put it in open fields. Only one barn was damaged and there was no loss of life, thankfully! And now, on to sports...”

  Trevor muted the sound on the TV when he heard knocking on the front door.

  “Marty, what a pleasant surprise,” Trevor greeted his friend. “What’s wrong?” he asked when he saw the scowl on Marty’s face.

  “You know that couple you asked me to check on at the hospital? I found them. They did die from the flu.”

  “That won’t be good news to Janis,” Christine said sadly.

  “There’s a problem.” Marty took off his cap. “You don’t happen to have a beer, do you?”

  Trevor moved to the kitchen without a word and retrieved one of the chilled brews from the refrigerator.

  Marty popped the cap and took a long swallow before continuing. “The Jones couple was in their late eighties. This Janis can’t be their daughter.”

  “Granddaughter?” Christine ventured.

  Marty shook his head. “Their only child died as an infant. Whoever this young woman is, she’s an imposter, and from what I’ve seen lately, most imposters are dangerous.”

  Trevor and Christine looked to the other and Trevor nodded. “Let us tell you about our recent experience with Janis.” Between the two of them, they laid out the past three days to the police chief, and their fears.

  “It’s sounding like Janis is an opportunist. Keep in mind the hospital was being overwhelmed and it was a chaotic time. The scant records indicate the couple came into the emergency room with a young girl helping them, who left shortly after, and that only Mr. Jones had any ID on him.”

  “Do you think Janis stole Mrs. Jones’ purse?” Christine asked.

  “Let me toss out my theory,” Marty said, taking another swallow of beer. “Janis hung out by the emergency room, waiting for the right target: a sick elderly person or couple. Acting like a hospital helper, she assisted them, gaining their trust by putting the weaker of the two in a wheelchair, and helping to get them checked in. During this distraction, she takes the purse. She now has a new name, an address, and likely some cash. Kee
ping the story as true as possible in case anyone checked, she set herself up in their house as a close relative.

  “I’m going to bet when we pay her a visit, the house will have very few things left, that she’s pawned the valuables. I’m also guessing you two were her next target.”

  Christine was stunned into momentary silence. “We trusted her,” she said quietly.

  “Don’t blame yourself, Christine,” Marty said. “A good con artist is very believable, and it’s likely much of her story was true. She probably really is afraid of storms for some reason, and maybe she didn’t view the two of you as susceptible until you invited her in, and then she was ready to take advantage.” He paused. “On the other hand, I could be all wrong. I won’t know until I confront her with a deputy or two. These types of people make all kinds of accusations when there are no witnesses to contradict them.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Police Chief Mallory knocked on the door of the house deeded to Bert and Aida Jones, not prepared for Doc Adams to be already inside.

  “Doc, what are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Chief, I’m glad to see you. When I got Trevor’s message about the hospitalization of the Jones’, I looked into it immediately. They were patients and friends of mine, and I came to check on Janis,” Doc Adams replied.

  “You know this Janis?”

  “She’s one of my patients, too. I think we should talk outside.”

  ***

  “Janis does live here, legally,” Doc Adams told the chief when they were outside. “The Jones’ were her foster parents and have been for over ten years. Janis just turned twenty-six. When she was fifteen, she was in a head on car accident with her parents during a severe storm. Both parents were killed, and Janis was trapped in the back seat with all the windows broken out. The lightning, thunder, and heavy rain pounded her for over two hours until the wreck was found and the crews were able to free her,” Doc said. “She might not have had any noticeable physical injuries, however, she did suffer a severe brain trauma injury. Over the following weeks, a team of specialists discovered the blow to her head had halted her mental growth. Janus will forever be fifteen years old.”

  “I’m confused. How did she come to be here?” Marty asked.

  “The Jones’ are - or were - her foster parents, like I said. I know they were likely too old for the chore, but they were the only ones that volunteered to take the girl. Janis and her parents belonged to the same church as the Jones’. In spite of the great age difference, it worked out well on both sides. Aida was very patient with Janis, and taught her how to function in society.

  “Even though Janis is now twenty-six, mentally she’s only fifteen. A smart fifteen, but still a teenager, who can function quite normally, and can cook, sew, clean house, and do laundry. All things that Aida was starting to have trouble doing. They balanced each other, and the Jones’ really did love Janis like the daughter they lost. Even though it wasn’t intentional, they sheltered Janis, and few knew she was even here.

  “Once Janis was of age to be on her own, the Jones’ asked her to stay. They were a family. Janis was smart enough to know she needed someone to watch over her.”

  “Wow, Doc, I would never have guessed all this. I was ready to bet she was a con artist who’d latched onto an opportunity.” Marty looked at his longtime friend and asked, “How is it you are involved?”

  “Oh, that’s simple. Janis has been a patient of mine since the day she was born. I delivered her. I still give her regular checkups, and I make sure she takes her medication. She can get anxious over certain things and tends to act out, like a typical teen. A little bit of Xanax works wonders for her.”

  “Can she stay here alone?” Marty asked, concerned.

  “For now, yes, but at some point she might be better off in an assisted living situation.” Doc sighed before going on. “Since now I’m her legal guardian, I’ll have to check with our lawyers about what to do. I do know that the Jones’ left everything to her and that she is well provided for.”

  “I think I should get back to Trevor and Christine and let them know what’s going on. I’m afraid I added to their fears and I need to fix that,” Marty said. “Care to come along and fill in the details for them? We might even be able to coax a cold beer out of Trevor.”

  “I’d be glad to, Chief. Besides, there’s something else I need to discuss with them.”

  “Will Janis be alright by herself, or should I leave a deputy here?”

  “She’s been on her own for weeks, Marty. She’ll be fine. Besides, she’s sleeping now.”

  ***

  The four friends sat in the living room enjoying their drinks. Trevor and the off-duty Marty had a beer, while Doc and Christine had coffee. Doc explained the situation to the young couple.

  “So that’s where it stands for now,” he finished.

  “And I have to apologize to both of you for weaving the worst case scenario before having all the facts,” Marty added.

  “So do you think this recent storm may have triggered her unusual behavior, Doc?” Trevor asked.

  “No doubt in my mind. Any storm is going to result in flashbacks for Janis. Can you imagine being trapped in a car with the bodies of your parents for hours? Add the storm on top of that, and you’ve got emotional scars that aren’t going away.”

  “Why did it take so long for help to get to the wreck?” Christine asked.

  “It happened on a back road, and the other driver was also killed. No one knew there was even an accident until another car happened by and saw the cars off in the ditch,” Marty said. “The more we talk about it, the more I remember it. This happened right after we moved here and I joined the force. New policies were implemented then about cruising some of those back roads. Of course, now many of those roads are heavily populated so incidents are reported quickly.”

  Christine sighed. “Now I feel badly about suspecting her of anything wrong.”

  “Without all the information it would be easy to jump to the wrong conclusion,” Doc said. “Now, I’ve got another… situation I need to discuss with you.”

  Christine got up and refilled their coffee cups.

  “The CDC wants some blood samples from the two of you,” Doc said.

  “What?” Trevor said. “Why?” He stood to pace.

  “Trevor, you caught this deadly flu, in fact you were one of the first to get sick. Yet you survived it, and got better rather quickly. The Centers for Disease Control, wants to know why. And you, Christine, were in constant contact with Trevor and never got sick. Again, they want to know why.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “That’s it, just give a blood sample?” Trevor asked, skeptically.

  “That’s what they told me,” Doc Adams confirmed. “They’ve set up a facility on State Road 135 near the country club. That’s not too far from here.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” Christine scowled. “I don’t like needles.”

  “Giving a bit of your blood could help them find a cure, or at least develop a vaccine that could save many lives,” the doctor pressed.

  Christine crossed her arms over her chest and remained silent.

  “Just think about it, okay?”

  ***

  Trevor parked the PT Cruiser in the country club parking lot, second row back, on the end facing out. He pushed the glass doors opened and stepped into the facility, immediately being assaulted by the astringent smell of alcohol and disinfectant. Christine clung tightly to his hand. He checked the paper Doc Adams had given him with a contact name.

  “May I help you?” a pleasant looking young man asked them from behind the reception desk.

  “I’m looking for a Dr. Marcus Hebert,” Trevor replied.

  “First hallway, third door down on the left.” He pointed the way and went back to his computer. As they walked past, Christine looked back and saw the young man was playing Free-Cell on the computer. Cushy job, she thought, which reminded her she was still unemp
loyed.

  Trevor tapped lightly on the designated door. A voice from within beckoned them to enter.

  “What can I do for you?” the doctor asked.

  “Doc Adams said you were looking for blood samples,” Trevor replied.

  “Ah, you’ve had this flu! Excellent!” Hebert was suddenly animated.

  “It wasn’t so excellent when I was sick,” Trevor responded.

  “Oh, no, of course not. Not at all, not at all. I understand it was particularly debilitating. Personally I never caught it, was never even exposed to it,” the doctor babbled.

  “How did you manage to escape it?” Christine asked.

  “They had me hiding in a room with my microscopes,” he said with a laugh. “Have a seat and tell me about yourselves. Oh, I need you to fill out these forms first, so I don’t repeat myself.”

  Trevor looked at the form but didn’t pick it up.

  “It’s basic information, Trevor,” Christine coaxed after she looked over the questionnaire.

  She picked up the offered pen and filled in her name, age, and phone number, skipping her address and social security number. Her dad taught her to never, ever give that out. She added some basic health information and the dates she had been exposed to the virus.

  Christine smiled when Trevor filled in his info too, knowing they could be doing a good thing by providing needed information that could possibly help others.